Two Sides
by KyuuLo
Summary: A maudlin Loki must drown his thirst for knowledge within a world of dark desire, secrets and pain. Struggling, he is carefully watched by those around him: how can he let go of a past, present and future which shouldn't be. Frostiron. Real-life fic.


Dear friends, I thank you for your interest in this story. My first on Fanfiction. This will (hopefully) be an interesting experiment into the psyche of our favourite character Loki. But first I'd just like to clear up a few things. I am Australian, so I will be using Australian spelling (sorry Americans). I have a slightly odd style of writing, so I hope you either enjoy it, or choose not to flame me for it. On the other hand, any constructive criticism is much appreciated.

This story will contain themes such as drugs, alcohol, depression, general mental health issues, sex (both heterosexual and homosexual in nature). If any of the above are triggers for you, may I suggest not reading.

I hope that you will all enjoy, without further ado, may I present, _Two Sides._

_xxxxxxx_

Loki smiled as he slid through the crowd surrounding him. Sweat, alcohol and other questionable liquids swarmed within the interchangeable blue and white UV lights. This was his place, where he would find his completion. This is where Loki defined himself (_alone, even here_).

Hands sensually slid against jean clad legs, travelling slowly higher and they made their ultimate goal clear. But this was not Loki's goal. Oh no. He was here for something much more… intriguing. Making his way to the bar, he tapped his knuckles on the wood. A small smirk played on his thin lips. He knew though, when he had what he wanted, it would become a full blown grin. Intimidating: full of sharp teeth and secrets. His body near throbbed with need for what was to come.

"Thane," he intoned with the slight inkling of an English accent, "give it to me (_give me everything)_." Thane, the intimidatingly large man stared Loki straight in the eyes. Eyeing the dark haired waif carefully, Thane handed Loki a small plastic bag.

"Loki…" he started; but the boy, no more than nineteen (_one thousand years old_), was already striding away out of the club. The older male sighed as he returned to his job serving questionably aged people spiked drinks and lethal concoctions.

_xxxxxxx_

Perhaps necessary at this point would be an explanation of the circumstances which faced the dark hero of our story; what led to his descent into a world of manipulation, darkness and dirty secrets (_always under covers_).

Loki, you see, was troubled. He had been for his entire life. One of his earliest memories was an intriguing tell into what would become the young lad's emerging psyche. Loki distinctly remembers, around the age of five, sitting, feet tucked under his body, in his family's rather impressive library. In front of him, was a faded edition of Grimm's fairy tales. Whilst in contemplation - rather serious contemplation regarding the nature by which many heroines seemed to meet their untimely end, his older brother, Thor (_the destroyer_) tumbled through the door and kicked his book to the other side of the room.

Thor boomed with laughter, thinking himself quite funny. Look at how good he had done, playing such a trick on his little brother. However, this is not how the ever-thinking (_ever-serious_) Loki took this action. Rather, an attack on his self, his being, his very existence. Thor had criticised his young thirst for knowledge, he _need_ to understand the greater world around him; a drive which Thor could not even begin to comprehend, ranging, spreading into his brain, grasping like a black weed, growing.

It was this moment, this bright spark within Loki's brain, which taught him many things. But perhaps the most important of all: that he could not possibly trust his family with any knowledge of his self (_of any of the knowledge inside of him_). And this is why, for the next fourteen years of his life; Loki hid himself away.

_xxxxxxx_

Now, Loki merely stalked through a car park, abandoned in the dark, cold night (_alone_). He found his car, black, not shiny, he didn't care for the maintenance. He didn't care for that sort of thing. Locking himself inside, he approached the bag he had been given by Thane. Small, insignificant; it held the key to his success (_the key to his escape_). Loki grasped the small white pill between his slender fingers, popped it into his mouth, and awaited what he knew was to come. This was the moment that defined him. This was him (_he thought so_). It was like this that he could forget all the knowledge in his head; that which killed him, that which made him hate. For him, this was the world.

There are two sides to every story. Except this one.


End file.
